


You Were A Kindness

by wordsliketeeth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Best Friends, Character Study, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsliketeeth/pseuds/wordsliketeeth
Summary: "Akashi can't remember when he last felt warm—when the sun did more than just touch on his skin. He doesn't recall when he stopped feeling its heat, when his body started to reject the blinding star in favor of wrapping him in cold. He only knows that his feelings don't matter much anymore—they haven't in a long time—and that emotions are better left alone." Akashi can no longer remain idle when he's privy to Haizaki's abuse. He decides that he needs to step in and do something about it before things take a turn for the worse.





	You Were A Kindness

It's the middle of May, and it's warmer than it has any right to be considering the ice that's encapsulated everything Akashi values. The sun is high in the sky and the brilliance of its light seems to illuminate every outcropping within the heart of the city. Every stone becomes a precious jewel, every tree assumes the form of balletic silhouettes reaching for the radiant heat, glass windows splinter into kaleidoscopes of color, and the sidewalks don't look quite as dirty as they used to; instead, they glisten with memories of the innumerable souls that have trespassed over the man-made paths. It suggests beauty and spells artistry, and Akashi thinks that if maybe things were different he could appreciate the natural elegance, but time has been unkind to him and the present isn't offering any favors.

Akashi can't remember when he last felt warm—when the sun did more than just touch on his skin. He doesn't recall when he stopped feeling its heat, when his body started to reject the blinding star in favor of wrapping him in cold. He only knows that his feelings don't matter much anymore— _they haven't in a long time_ —and that emotions are better left alone.

He knows this, he _knows_ better than to meddle in business that doesn't directly involve himself. His father would claim it a waste of time, a concept which holds more importance than doing any amount of good for society. Time is money and wasted time only breeds failure. If he can't manage this simple task, can't pride himself on self-restraint, then he's lost the battle and Akashi will never allow himself to be a causality of a war that he's created.

However, Akashi has learned that there are exceptions to every rule and that sometimes, those rules are not only meant to be broken, but they're also meant to be _destroyed_. He understands it now, perhaps even appreciates it, but it's not the first time that he's been handed the cerebral epistle. Shortly after his mother passed away, Akashi saw the devil walking in the daylight and he knew then that conventionality and morality were just words in a dictionary. He discerned the truth without the scars that crosscut his spine and the verbal poison that burned holes in his soul, but sometimes, just knowing isn't enough.

Every now and then, Akashi can feel himself being dragged by the wind and taken by the stars. It's times like these when the damage his father caused him comes alive. He doesn't like admitting it and he probably never will if he's being honest, but his father is the dark matter that lives beneath his skin and turns away from the sun. And from time to time, that darkness tears him down and exposes the madness within.

It was the third fracture that strained Akashi's madness to the breaking point.

He's swallowed the cuts and the bruises, compartmentalized the black eyes and the other breaks; he's even overlooked the wealth of tears and vowed to keep the truth of what was happening to himself. It was an easy request to fulfill seeing as he entrusted his own truths to Midorima when he was younger, and later to Mibuchi, who would find him shivering in the shower and lost in the void of his darkest thoughts. He didn't want to encroach, didn't want to lose you by meddling where you didn't feel he belonged—Akashi is used to being dissociative so extracting himself from a situation that could result in potential devastation wasn't something he struggled with—until he realized exactly _why_ he couldn't entirely let it go.

He sees the fracture over the weekend. It's not hard to miss seeing the blue-violet smear that follows the curve of your jawline like a sick caress. It makes something brackish and acidic cloy in the back of his throat, and he can't swallow it for a moment because he's afraid that if he does, he won't be able to keep himself from taking out his anger on you. He has so many questions for you, a myriad of thoughts capable of keeping him up at night, and even when he manages to touch sleep, he wakes with the sheets soaking wet and a violent voice playing like a violin inside of his head. He tells himself that he shouldn't get involved, that he should keep to himself, and it strings him along for a while but the strands of his self-control have frayed beyond repair. He can't hold his tongue anymore; silence has worn itself thin and is anything but golden, especially when Akashi finally understands that his feelings for you have long since outstripped simple friendship.

The conversation happens over lunch.

“I think you should leave,” Akashi tells you, firm and sincere. His lunch is untouched and the styrofoam cup between his hands has become something to hold on to rather than a container meant for the beverage inside.

“What?” you ask, your voice scraping on incredulity. “But we just got here. What did I do?”

Akashi exhales a breathy sigh and shakes his head slowly, almost as if he can't believe what you've just asked, and in ways, he can't, but he expects it. “You always think everything is your fault. Don't you ever stop to wonder why that is?” Akashi lifts his head and meets your baffled stare with a piercing gaze that cuts through you. “This is what I'm talking about. You need to get away from your boyfriend. He's changing you, for one, and I sincerely hope that I don't have to go into what he's done to you physically.” Akashi looks at the dark bruise coloring your jaw pointedly.

You shy away from his gaze and turn your head in an attempt to hide the contusion from his view. “Seijurō, please. I know what you're thinking but it's not like that. It was—”

“Don't,” Akashi warns, his voice low and frigid. “Don't tell me that it was an accident. Don't make excuses for him. I'm not stupid, ____, and I will not deign to believe you simply because you want me to. We've been friends for too long to play that game.”

“I'm not, I just … you don't know the entire situation.” The tone of your voice starts strong but it's already weak by the time you're finishing the sentence.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that he doesn't hurt you,” Akashi demands, sliding the cup away from the tight grip of his hands. “If that bastard is innocent, then it should be easy for you to make me believe the so-called truth, the _truth_ that you claim to trust.”

“There's no point,” you tell him, sounding more dejected than you mean to. “You won't believe me no matter what I tell you. You're just determined to hate him. You won't even say his name.”

“Someone like him doesn't deserve a name,” Akashi says. “And you're right, I won't believe you because I _know_ the truth.”

“You don't know everything. You only focus on the negative. You don't know what he's like when we're alone together. You're biased anyway, it's not like the two of you had the best end to your friendship.” You lower your head and stare at a scratch etched into the table in front of you.

“He and I were never friends. He was nothing more than a teammate to me. I did what I had to do when the time came, and whose fault was that, ____? He couldn't keep his act together so I let him go. It was a simple decision for me to make but it wasn't personal.” Akashi inhales a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“You're so cold,” you tell him, frowning. “Basketball actually meant something to him, believe it or not. Maybe that's why you can't understand any of this. You don't feel things like the rest of us do. You're capable of bottling everything up and locking it away so you don't have to deal with it.”

Akashi huffs a breath through his nose. “I won't deny that I might process things differently than some people but what he did, he did to himself. No one forced him to walk the path that he chose. He needs to be held responsible for the things that he's done, but all you ever do is make excuses for him. What are you trying so hard to protect him from? Himself? Because I can assure you, it's not doing either of you any favors.” Akashi clears his throat quietly and leans against the back of his chair. “He doesn't care about you.” His voice softens and you have to close your eyes to keep the damp that's darkening the lines of your lashes from rolling down your cheeks. “You can't even look at me, ____. You are giving him _everything_ and he doesn't deserve any of it.” You can hear something like sadness— _or is it disappointment?_ —in Akashi's voice and the sudden pain you feel is enough to take your next breath away.

“He loves me, Seijurō. He just doesn't know how to show it.” You finally tilt back your head and shift your gaze to the burning red of Akashi's stare. There's something in his expression that you can't read but it makes the ache in your lungs lance through the beating of your heart.

“I used to think the same thing when it came to my father. Except, he never told me that he loved me, and after all of the years I've suffered with him following the death of my mother, I finally realized that I would never be as important to him as I needed to be. He will _always_ come first. I have no place in his life.” Akashi pushes himself away from the support of the chair and braces himself against the edge of the table. “What's it going to take for you to see that you don't deserve what he's doing to you?”

You stare at Akashi for a loaded moment of silence. “You never told me that. I didn't know that...” you trail off, biting the bottom line of your mouth as your vision turns bleary with the damp of your tears.

“I know. It's not easy admitting it, especially aloud, I never have. It's even harder when it means making yourself vulnerable in front of someone you've tried so hard to make a good impression on. I've been raised to believe that men don't speak about their problems, it's a sign of weakness.” Akashi closes his eyes and takes a brief moment to regain himself. “All I'm asking you is to give me the same courtesy. Tell me the truth. You're my best friend. I care about you more than I probably should, but that's exactly why I want you to come to terms with what's happening. You deserve better, but if you continue making excuses for him you will never know what that feels like. Things will continue to get worse and then what?”

You hang in suspension for what feels like forever, the uncomfortable silence between you like plastic stress. You feel a shiver spread through the length of your spine and the chill of it breaks out across your skin like a cold sweat. Your palms are damp and your muscles feel tight, the breath in your lungs burns and your heart feels like it's running a race it has no chance of finishing. You slide your tongue across the bitten red of your lips and swallow what little moisture you have left in your mouth. “I … I don't know how to accept what's been happening. If I tell you the truth, it means admitting that I've allowed myself to be … abused.” Your voice shakes and comes apart in your throat, and the profusion of emotion that you've been trying so hard to keep hidden breaks apart like a dam washed away after the flood.

“I want to help you,” Akashi says, and before you can brace yourself for his affection, he's taking you into his arms and offering up his shoulder for you to cry on.

And you do—you cry until your head throbs and your jaw aches, you cry until your eyes burn and your cheeks are flushed and chapped. It hurts in more ways than one and it feels truly miserable, but when you finally manage to pull yourself back to functioning, you feel like the weight of the world has lifted from your shoulders. You sniffle and pull yourself upright, brushing the remainder of your tears away with the back of your hand. You look at the wet fabric of Akashi's shirt and pull your mouth into a tight frown, red creeping into your cheeks that has nothing to do with crying.

“I'm sorry about your shirt. I came here to have lunch with you. I didn't plan on falling apart,” you say in an attempt at humor but your voice has turned hoarse and you're shaking too badly for it to pass.

“Don't apologize,” Akashi tells you, smiling. He tugs the material away from his skin and looks at where it's gone dark. “You're probably going to wish that it was my blood instead of your tears for what I'm about to do.” He slides himself out of the chair at your side and stands up. “I'll make this up to you soon,” he nods at the half-eaten remains spread out across the table. “Maybe we can have a proper dinner sometime instead of these casual lunches.”

“Wait, what are you planning on doing? Where are you going?” You fumble for your things in rising panic and quickly spring out of your chair. Akashi is already exiting through the glass door at the front of the bistro and you have to jog to catch up with him. “Seijurō, answer me,” you demand, slightly winded.

“There's an arcade close by here. That's why I chose this spot for lunch. I had a strange feeling that today would be different from the rest.” Akashi's pace is measured and the rhythm of his footfalls against the pavement is as steady as a heartbeat, but there's a sense of urgency in the way he's walking toward his destination that writes something sinister out on the wall.

“Arcade? You came here to go to an arcade? You don't even like...” You settle into stillness as the questions bend into perplexity before the crushing weight of realization dawns on you. “No! No, you can't do this to me! You cannot go in there, Seijurō. I mean it. I will never speak to you again.”

Akashi stops walking and turns around to face you, your brief moment of confusion putting space between your bodies. “If that's what it's going take to ensure that you never get hurt again, I guess I'll just have to take my chances.”

“This isn't your fight. If you do this, he'll never forgive me.” You want to take a step in Akashi's direction but your feet won't leave the ground.

“You mean to say that if I do this, he'll beat you again.” Akashi takes a step forward as if he's closing the distance _for_ you. “You'll be rid of an abuser and you'll finally be able to live your life the way you want to—without limits, without rules, without the weight of _his_ problems breaking your back.” Akashi takes another step forward and at this distance, you're able to see something shift in his gaze. “You're special to me, ____. I don't know how to explain it, I don't even know how to process it for myself, but you're different. I guess that's the one, the _only_ , thing I have to thank him for—his actions have led me to realize that I have feelings for you. You make me feel warm again.”

Time itself seems to stop at that moment. Your mouth falls slack but you can't formulate a response, can't even frame your lips in an attempt to form sound. You blink several times, knowing that you must look like a fool standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your eyes wide and your mouth agape.

“I can't just sit back and let him continue to hurt you,” Akashi says, picking up the pieces of your silence and pulling the metaphorical ties between you taut. “You don't have to accept my confession but I thought you should know.” He furrows his brow as if he's considering something. “People say that love makes you do crazy things ... I think I'm starting to understand that now.” Akashi smiles softly and despite the warm gesture, it's the first time in the long span of your friendship that he appears apprehensive.

Akashi turns back around and starts in the direction of the arcade, now in sight, and you don't know if it's for the fear in your heart or the shock in your veins but you stay rooted to the spot until he's long disappeared from view. By the time you finally manage to break free of your self-borne paralysis and run straight into the arcade, Akashi is waist-deep in the dangerous waters of a lethal conversation with Haizaki.

“You don't know what the fuck you're talking about,” Haizaki spits, his words like the venom dripping off of his serpent's tongue.

“You're a coward, Shōgo. You always have been and you always will be if you don't start making changes. You're a scared little boy living under the veil of a powerful man, but hitting a woman doesn't make you strong. Breaking her down until she feels small just so you can build yourself up makes you weak.” Akashi's tone is even and if his expression is anything to go by, he's unperturbed by the hatred burning behind Haizaki's gaze.

“Did you put him up to this?” Haizaki growls, snapping his head to the side to look at you. You don't know when he even realized you were there but he's seething, and when you lower your gaze reflexively you see that his hands are balled into fists, ready for a fight.

“That's enough,” Akashi says, his tone hard and authoritative. “You're done pushing her around. I can't stop you from hurting other girls—I can only hope that you'll grow a backbone one of these days, but you're done hurting her.”

Haizaki draws back his arm and you quickly squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head. The last thing you want is to witness Akashi getting hurt. You brace yourself for the sound that you've come to know so well but it doesn't come.

“I said, that's enough,” Akashi drawls malevolently and puts a hand on Haizaki's shoulder. “This is the last time we're going to do this. I never want to deal with you again.” Haizaki appears frozen in motion and you can't quite make sense of what you're seeing. “Now, get down, boy,” Akashi says, and the hand on the silver-haired boy's shoulder shifts in a way that drives him to the floor and on his knees.

Haizaki looks up at Akashi, murderous intent flashing behind his gaze like the brightest of wildfires. He slowly shifts his glare in your direction and curls his lip like a rabid dog. “I don't need you, slut. You can have your fairytale ending but don't expect—”

“Good dogs don't speak,” Akashi interjects, and before you can prepare for it, he cracks Haizaki across the mouth with the back of his hand. “I'd demand that you apologize to her, but your words mean less than nothing—that, and you've already wasted enough of her time.”

Akashi steps back from Haizaki, his eyes downcast in a warning that dares him to move. “This world isn't always fair, Shōgo, and I might have felt sorry for you if you hadn't singlehandedly jeopardized everything you had going for you. That being said, it might do you good to remember just who I am.” Akashi lets the weight of his statement hang in the air for a moment before finally making to leave.

You spare a fleeting glance in Haizaki's direction and the terror that grips you is almost breathtaking. It shakes you down to the bone and you're so scared to leave despite knowing that this is what you need that you take a moment to reconsider whether or not you're capable of leaving. Then, Akashi takes you by the hand and the noose that Haizaki's strung up for you vanishes immediately.

“Come on. Let me walk you home,” Akashi says, the same apprehension you saw earlier slipping into his tone.

You follow his lead with a tremble in your knees, and you don't say anything until you're outside and away from the nearest reaches of the arcade. “I don't know whether I should hit you or thank you.” You stop walking and let your hand fall away from Akashi's limply. “I'm so scared of what's going to happen now. It's strange but staying with him, even with his unpredictable moods and the violence and...” You trail off and exhale a breathy sigh. “It was easier somehow because I knew what to expect.”

Akashi smiles sympathetically and nods. “I can relate to how you're feeling. The fear of the unknown is a lot harder to accept than the experience of repetition, no matter how bad it gets.”

“Yeah, and what about you?” you ask him, your voice going shaky. “What if he tries to get revenge on you? You wounded his pride. That's the worst thing you can do to a guy like him.”

Akashi lifts his shoulders in the barest hint of a shrug. “I'm not worried about him. I don't like using my name as I did back there—I hate it actually—but he knows what I could do to him. I've known him for a while now and he's never really committed to any one thing. I don't think he'll dwell on this for too long.” Akashi takes a step forward and gently strokes his fingers over the bruise coloring your jaw. “Girls are a dime a dozen to boys like him. He'll move on to someone new and you can stop being his doormat.”

You laugh airily and try to ignore the fresh tears that glide down your cheeks. “I feel sorry for her. I wish it didn't have to be this way.”

“I agree, but the world works in mysterious ways and a lot of times, the outcome isn't ideal. I think sometimes that the things we deal with here are a test for what's waiting for us on the other side. Maybe it's nothing, maybe when we die we cease to have ever existed at all, but I like to think that there's a reason for the suffering that we endure in this life.” Akashi tilts his head back and looks up at the sky, his hand drawing away from your face. “It's trivial, isn't it? We have all of these questions that we might never have the answers to.” His lips twitch into a half smile. “Let me get you home. It's getting dark.”

No sooner than you nod your assent are you walking in the direction of your home. Your mind is teeming with so many thoughts that you can't seem to focus on a single one but when you finally think of something to say, Akashi is stopping at your doorstep. “I hope you have a good night, ____.”

“Don't leave,” you blurt, then, “please.”

Akashi looks at you inquisitively and you can feel your heart begin to pound a little harder than it's used to.

“I was hoping that maybe you'd be up for that dinner tonight. We had a late lunch and we didn't really eat anything and I figured that we could pass the time talking or something. I'm rambling...” you trail off, frowning.

“I'd be more than happy to take you out to dinner, but why did you have me walk you home if you just wanted to stay out?” Akashi looks slightly amused and you can feel heat creep into your cheeks.

“I can't go out looking like this, can I?” You lift your head a little higher and wear your best expression of put-on confidence. “You're going to take me somewhere nice after all.”

Akashi's mouth curves into a tilted smile and his eyes catch in the light that suddenly comes to life above your head. “Only the best,” is his answer, honest and genuine. “Go get ready. I'll wait here.”

“Like I'd leave you out here after what you've done today. Get inside,” you order, serious but half-teasing.

“Does this mean that I get to help pick out your outfit?” Akashi asks, his voice slipping low and thick with honey.

“Don't push your luck, Seijurō. You've already crossed a lot of boundaries today,” you tell him as you push open the front door and step inside.

“I understand,” he answers, following you into your home. “I suppose it's going to take some time for you to forgive me.”

“No, I forgive you,” you say, slipping out of your shoes. “I just want to know what it feels like to be in control of my own life for a while.”

Akashi nods and you return his gesture of acceptance with a coy smile. “That being said, I don't think there would be any harm in my best friend hanging out with me while I try on a few outfits and freshen up.” You let the implication settle over Akashi as you start in the direction of your bedroom, a wide smile on your lips.

“How is this any different from what I suggested earlier?” Akashi chuckles, following in tow.

You spin around and take Akashi's hands in your own, startling him. “It's different because you've given me a chance to make my own decisions. I should thank you.”

“You _should_? So … does that mean you're not?” Akashi rubs his thumbs over the backs of your hands and arches an eyebrow.

“I'll thank you properly when I feel that you've earned it,” you say playfully. You begin to walk backward toward your room and watch the corners of Akashi's soft lips curve upward.

“I think that's fair. Just keep this in mind” –Akashi pushes you back and up against the hallway wall– “I can be a bit demanding myself.” He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I won't hurt you, not unless you want me to. But I've never been very good about practicing patience when there's something I really want. I'm very successful, you see. Perhaps I've become a bit spoiled.”

You feel your knees go weak and something like electricity rush through your veins. Akashi presses your hands against the wall and pins them there as he grinds forward, a perfect smirk on his lips. Your eyes flutter shut as lightning branches through you but as soon as the sensation reaches your heart, Akashi is already down the hall and turning into your room.

“Come on, ____. We have a dinner to attend,” Akashi calls, his voice a seductive echo bouncing off the walls.

_Best friends to lovers, does that ever actually work?_ you think to yourself and shake your head. _I guess there's only one way to find out._ You make your way down the hall slowly, your head full of thoughts and possibilities and potential outcomes.

It's the first time in a long time that the thoughts in your head have touched on the prospect that something positive could happen to you. There are cracks of light in the corners of your mind where there used to be only shadows, and the glimmer of hope is enough to imbue you with the energy you need to throw yourself up against chance. And it might be uncomfortable at first, it might even leave a scar, but a little pain never hurt anyone.

Especially when it feels like this. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
